Accommodating
by thatswhyyyoudont
Summary: Slash. Katz runs into Courage after a period of bad luck.


For the first time in Katz' life, business is struggling. He is bitter, angry, morose and blaming everyone but himself. He decides to take to the road to try his luck elsewhere. He normally would have scoffed at such fancy, but his lack of an alternative is rather alarming. His mind plagues him with all this as he walks the track road in the desert, leaving him no closer to a solution.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spies a lone house. He gives it a cursory glance over. Something about it attracts his interest, and he can't think what. And then it dawns on him. The truck. The old man and woman. The_ dog_. He slows to a halt and grins to himself.

He dusts himself off and prepares a brief pitch. He has nothing to sell and no intention of doing so; he simply wants some fun. He doesn't think it will be hard to come by.

The man answers, and he is not impressed. He is soon replaced by the woman, which gets Katz' hopes up, but there is still no sign of the dog. It's strange. He can see clearly into the front room, and aside from the man it is vacant. As is the kitchen. Could he be sleeping? Sick? Not dead, as Katz can make out his bowl in the kitchen, and light fuchsia hairs dusting the woman's apron front.

He is disappointed. When they don't bite, he doesn't push it as much as he normally would. He turns from the house when she closes the door, the disappointment clouding his features and weighing him down. It hardly matters, but still.

It's late, and the sky looks threatening. Katz eyes their barn in comparison for the road ahead, and opts for the former. He creaks open the door and slips through the crack, closing it behind him just as the rain begins. The hay is sweet-smelling, and it is not as cold as he feared. He feels around in his pocket for a flashlight, and switches it on.

Deciding the hayloft will be his most comfortable option, Katz takes the flashlight and briefcase awkwardly between his teeth and arm and begins to climb.

He almost drops them in shock when he reaches the top. The light only glances over the loft momentarily, but Katz sees the dog clearly, fast asleep. _Well, well_. He hoists himself over the final rung and approaches quietly.

Despite his care, the dog hears and starts awake. He stares up at him for a fraction of a second before attempting to bolt. Katz' hand shoots out and catches him with ease.

"Why, dog," he exclaims, pulling him back roughly. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" he shoots back, which is rather cute. He struggles.

"If you must know, I'm travelling and have not had the best of luck lately," he hisses.

"Let go of me."

"So you can go running to your owners? I hardly think so, pooch. But look here - stop writhing! - I just want to sleep. That's all. I'm not hurting anyone. Least of all you." He relaxes his grip pointedly as he speaks, though not enough to let him loose. With his free hand, he manages to open his suitcase and fish around inside of it.

The dog looks anxious. "What are you doing?"

Katz takes no notice. He finally finds what he is after, and snaps a metal cuff around Courage's paw. For a second he worries that the dog is too frail for it, that it will slip off, but it tightens nicely. He attaches the other cuff to himself. The dog is looking at him like he has lost his mind.

"Now, don't try anything silly," he says lazily, sliding the briefcase, with the key safe inside, across the loft to the wall.

"But, but, but, but- "

Katz tugs his wrist into the hay sharply, forcing Courage down beside him. It is scratchy and not as soft as it appears. When the dog realises he isn't going to relent, he burrows into it as if to get as far away as possible. Perhaps he is used to it. The hay, that is.

When he knows the dog is half-asleep, he scratches behind his ears half-heartedly, for he knows dogs like this, and sure enough, Courage seems to enjoy for a moment before jerking away. "Stop that!"

"Just trying to be accommodating," he murmurs.

Courage snorts. "Accommodating. Yeah, right."

The rain thickens. It is rather soothing. He wants to ask Courage what he is doing up here - is he in disgrace, hiding? - but at the same time he does not want to get too attached. And he is tired, so very tired.

The dog eventually falls asleep, despite flinching and twitching and shivering at every sound, and presses close in his sleep, whimpering from nightmares. It is rather endearing. Katz is somewhat tempted to leave the handcuffs on in the morning and take him with him, but he knows the dog will make him nicer, will not accommodate for his malicious ways, and he cannot allow that to happen at this point in his life. He already feels like he is losing. He realises the rain has stopped, has no idea when. He sleeps.


End file.
